There’s something to be said for a great deal of both distance and time. Doubly so when both are quasi linked through space. And nowhere has this been more observable than in the divergence of cultures that grew out of the Second Space Age of Man. So much so that they are now studied as separate and, often, alien cultures – despite having a very undeniably common human ancestry – under the relatively new branch of science; cosmoanthropology.
However, even as now well established cosmoanthropology has become as an academic discipline, it still has its detractors. And many on both sides admit to why. Noted, and sometimes controversial xenoarcheologist and cosmoanthropologist Martin Mayhew has often noted in his field reports how, over the centuries, various planetary factors have played into reshaping a society that established itself during the golden ages of space exploration, and how – despite these peoples being very decidedly human, have developed, what has been seen within the core system, as very non-human; leaving for some very discomforting differences.
Some of them are more or less fairly obvious; adaptation to environmental factors over generations have bred some distinct physiological differences – such as temperature tolerances, light sensitivity, and even physical muscular output. With things like variances in atmospheric radiation exposure new skin tones have been introduced; such as the people of Ventax in the Hearldon system who now come in an odd variety of bronze and gold. To adapt to changing degrees in gravity the people living on Startseita have become disproportionate between their limbs and their chests; whose chests have grown in both height and girth in an effort to develop a larger muscular core and cardiovascular system to deal with the increased strain of the rocky giant.
Along with these physiological changes many cultural diversions have also arisen. On Deblina, in the country of Sprankle Dorf, there used to be a customary tradition of commoners for grooms to tie one of their soon-to-be wife’s undergarments to the heel of their left boot. This was to be worn for the week leading up to the wedding until it would be untied by the now wife and tossed to the wedding guests for luck with their love life. But somewhere along the way this evolved into a fancy dress statement, and now it is quite common for gentlemen of high society standing to be found with a piece of lace as part of the heel of their left shoe. To not have such would be as unforgiveable as to serve herginmerf brisket with a four tonged fork.
Ventack moon colony, which has always been notable for its over the top fashions, introduced a peculiar addition to its fall lineup when it gave the galaxy the opposable, wearable, whip tail. Created from severed tentacles of the Harmo squid, the tail was originally bonded to work suits for day laborers of the Minimumal ports to aid in the lifting of heavier cargo. The symbiotic nature of the flesh of the Harmo squid left it susceptible to strong input commands from other living tissues when it was in close proximity to it. At least for a short time, at any rate; then it would dry and wither and one would have to replace it every few days, depending on the work load.
Someone from Ventack must have been passing through the Minimumal ports, seen such a marvel, and thought; if only I could make it last longer… and maybe glue some cheap plastic jewelry to it, too. Because that’s what that someone did; found a way to recreate the squid’s effect artificially, and offer it in an array of colors, materials, and with so many accessories it would make your trendy little head spin. Though at the cost of being little more useful than to maybe hold aloft a martini glass, or wave, greet, or otherwise salute a fellow party goer.
Capes are all the rage in the kingdom state of Lymbomia, the controlling principality of the Octonaught Union. They come in a variety of colors and lengths with all kinds of available trim. Some have caplets and arm holes, while others are cut and tapered to favor a particular side. With the advent of wearable biometric feedback imaging, it’s not uncommon for these capes to be also displaying all manner of patterns, colors, and even montages of scenery, movies, and landscapes.
In fact, the introduction of biometric feedback fashion has taken hold well within the worlds of the United Corporate Commonwealth. Its integration into men’s and women’s high society fashion is so complete that clubs, casinos, hotels, and many other fine establishments have found need of enhanced surveillance systems to be able to monitor their grounds and their guests through all the glare and kaleidoscope-like colors that can fill an assembly of even the finest of party goers.
Which, incidentally, has also had a large impact on the need for more responsive environmental controls to accommodate the various levels of radiant heat that a large collection of such garments can put off in a particularly festive gathering.
For its part, fashion out along the outworld systems, and especially the frontier of controlled space, has not found the addition of lights, capes, opposable tail whips or anything of that nature all that fashionable. The trends out there tend to be more modest and serviceable, as life can be often times not as glamourous or frivolous as within the core systems. Which is not to say that sometimes an odd fashion might crop up, and out of the least likely of places.
But even as well researched, read, and field experienced as he is in the customs of many worlds, even famed xenoarcheologist and cosmoanthropologist Marten Mayhew is admittedly at a loss to explain why The League of Guy has an encounter suit that looks like an ape wearing a fishbowl diving helmet.